Two Wrongs Make a Right
by comatose bum
Summary: What started of as a nasty habit of saving each other's neck in more than one occasion, causes Draco and Harry to "accidentally" form a bond which might just rid the world of Voldermort, if only someone can convince them to work together... Slash
1. Chapter One

Okay, so maybe I haven't written in a very long time, well that's not my fault! Okay, maybe it is, just a little bit. But still! Okay fine fine, it's my fault. The good thing, probably, is that I've updated and edited every single chapter.

In hindsight, the story wasn't going like I wanted it to, so I decided to revamp and clean up the whole thing. But mostly, its still along the same story line, I wouldn't want the previous readers to start a mutiny. Hope you lot would enjoy the latest edition.

Disclaimer: I'm actually JK Rowling in disguise, this is just my pseudo name and I earn loads of muggle cash and live with an income higher than the Queen herself! Mwahahahahaha!

--

Chapter One:  


"Good Merlin, you'd think that after all these years they'll get the hint that maybe, just _maybe_, those slimy gits aren't exactly our best friends." Said Ron, tossing his head towards the Slytherin Table.

It was the first week back at Hogwarts after another uneventful summer holiday at number four Privet Drive and Harry was just ecstatic with infectious glee to be away from his obnoxious relatives.

Anymore of Dudley's, "But _Mum_, I can't wear this! It's _too small_!" and Harry would have _asked_ Voldemort to put him out of his misery.

To put it simply, Harry was happy, and nothing could ruin his day. The sun was shining brightly, his meals were warm and wholesome, his bed sheets were thick and snugly, Quidditch practices were back in session – nothing could go wrong.

That is, until Professor McGonagall started handing out timetables.

Double Potions _and_ Care of Magical Creatures – with the Slytherins.

"I don't believe this." Said Harry hoarsely, closing his eyes, willing the accursed timetable to Disapparate.

"I know! It's like they're trying to make us _like_ them or something… As though we haven't got enough on our plates with Snape trying to poison us, but nooo, they have to throw in Malfoy and his worshippers."

"Y'know, I always knew Dumbledore was whacked…"

"Oh come off it, you two," Hermione scoffed, while buttering her toast, "It's high time you both grew up and learn to get along with the Slytherins, considering what we're up against. It's just like what the Sorting Hat said, y'know? Stand together for victory or fall apart in defeat."

Ron gave Hermione a scandalized look.

"How can you even _begin_ to quote that Ha-"

"You do agree don't you Harry?" Hermione continued, ignoring Ron while prodding Harry's shoulder.

"- Desperation, Determinat- no, no uhh, Determination, Damnation- Huh? Wha? Oh, what's up 'Mione?" Said Harry, snapping out of his daze.

"I was just sayin-"

"She thinks we could be friends with those tossers over there." Interrupted Ron, glancing at the Slytherin table.

A grin pulled over Harry's face slowly at the image of Hermione attempting to have tea with Crabbe and Goyle, "Oh, I like to see you try that Hermione," Harry said teasingly, picking up a copy of the Daily Prophet,

"Word is, you are paired up with a certain Slytherin prefect, Parkinson, I believe, for night patrol."

"_What?_ Where did you hear that from?" Asked Hermione furiously, her eyes narrowing suspiciously in Ron's direction, who suddenly took great interest in the pattern of his eggs.

"Oh come on Hermione," said Ron, cracking under her glowering stare, "Ernie told me yesterday and Harry was there. Besides, you're the one talking about making friends with those idiots," he continued, his face splitting into an evil grin, "I'm sure you and the Parkinson cow would be calling each other sisters in no time."

"Yea, after they call each other a lot of other things first!" Interjected Seamus. Hermione gave a dignified sniff and continued to ignore them as the Gryffindor table roared with laughter.

"I bet 5 Galleons she'll crack by the end of this week!" Said Ron happily avoiding Hermione's scandalized look.

"Nah, I bet by Wednesday one of them will end up in the hospital wing," said George Weasley as he helped himself to more porridge, "In fact, I'll raise you and bet 10 Galleons on that."

SPLAT.

The table was stunned silent as porridge dripped off George Weasley's face.

"I heard that." Said Hermione lightly, tucking her wand back into her bag.

"Oh you're not getting away with that…" George Weasley growled as the twins pulled out their wands and the Great Hall burst into a massive food fight.

Food flying everywhere, the rest of the school got engaged in the food fight, oblivious to the enraged professors who were docking points from the four houses.

For the first time in Hogwarts a History, all four houses had negative points before school had even begun.

Grinning at his friends' antics, Harry slipped out of the Great Hall unnoticed while dodging a whizzing bludger- no, apple, just as Peeves emptied a large barrel of pumpkin juice on the Hufflepuff table, causing the students to scatter in shrieks.

--

Harry made his way towards Hagrid's cabin taking the longer route that circled the Hogwarts castle, he didn't mind the journey though, it gave him time to think and clear his mind.

A lot of things had happened over the past two years. More than any one person could handle on his own. The weight of it all was too much.

_Just too much._

Too many things to think about - Sirius, Voldemort, Dumbledore, the prophecy, Diggory, the things done and the things to be done. The thought of it was just suffocating.

Who robbed him of his youth and gave him all these responsibilities? Saviour of the Wizarding World.

'_Bah_,' thought Harry glumly, '_I need a Pensieve.'_

He flung himself against the castle wall, sat down on the damp grass and sighed. It wasn't as though he hadn't come to terms with his fate, he had. And he had taken all the steps necessary, to prepare himself for the battle.

'_But I just wish that once in a while, I could just give up all this, and laugh without a care for the world. Just for a while. That would be nice.'_ Harry thought, a smile creeping to his face.

He would hardly admit it, but Easter holidays became something he looked forward to. He didn't even mind the Dursley's after a while. Easter holidays became the break from the Wizarding World, where nothing, not Voldemort or even Dumbledore could affect him.

In the Easter holidays, he was no longer The Boy Who Lived, Saviour of the Wizarding World; he was plain old Harry Potter, Potter the make-my-pancakes-and-wear-my-hand-me-downs boy.

Of course Harry had no idea of this, being as dense as he was.

The early morning walk, Harry decided, was a bad idea. He didn't have enough sleep the night before and now exhaustion was seeping through his aching muscles, and the grass was_ so_ soft, and the morning chill _too_ inviting.

Harry yawned. _'Hermione would be angry'_ he thought vaguely, _'Sleeping and missing classes...'  
_

--

Draco Malfoy was in a bad mood. He was positively fuming as he stormed from the Great Hall to his first class, Care of Magical Bleeding Creatures with the idiot Gryffindors, his hair flecked with porridge. Narrowing his eyes, he swore he definitely saw the Weasel and his gang pointing at him before he was attacked in the face with a suspiciously large amount of porridge.

Of course it didn't help his reputation when he sputtered unglamorously, "Mon Dieu! Sacre Bleu! My Face! It's _ruined_!"

"Big mistake, Weasel King," He thought maliciously as he marched across the Hogwarts grounds, his robes billowing behind him like an oversized cape, his face pink from the memory, "Nobody messes with my hair and expects to live. Oh _no_, you shall _pay_."

'_AHA!'_ Malfoy thought gleefully, spotting Potter's sidekicks huddled by the fat oaf's fence as he approached the class, _'Get ready to kiss my arse Weasel King.'_ Malfoy smirked as his insides performed an Irish jig with joy.

Walking slowly towards the pair like a panther on the hunt, Malfoy came to a stop in front of the two and calmly tucked a strand of hair back into place as he opened his mouth to deliver the royal insult-

"Righ', so as you can see, today's lessons are on Tiggorns, now, these here are Classified Beasts by the Ministry, but Dumbledore reck'n you lot could handle…"

'_THE OAF! He ruined my grand entrance! NO!' _Malfoy shrieked mentally, his anguish lost upon the preoccupied faces of Hermione and Ron.

--

"Where is Harry?" Hissed Hermione under her breath. They were twenty minutes into class and Harry was nowhere to be seen. Hermione wringed her hands as scenes of Harry being tortured flashed through her mind.

'_He could be kidnapped! Tortured beyond recognition! Harry never misses his classes! WhatshouldIdo? WhatshouldIdo? Mrs Weasley's going to kill me! Ohmygod! IjustlostGinny'shusband!'_

"Relax 'Mione, he's obviously off catching up on some sleep or snogging some girl at the back of the greenhouse…" Ron said, his humour failing on her.

With her dark eyebrows knitted together and her lips pursed, it was obvious she wasn't paying attention to Hagrid, neither was Malfoy, it appeared, as his cold laughter failed to bring her attention back to the class.

"So a Tiggorn here looks very much like the non-magic beast, tigers, but yeh can tell 'em apart by their coats – Tiggorns have a golden coat of scales 'stead of orange fur unlike their non-magic cousins" Hagrid said, oblivious to Draco who blanched visibly at Hagrid's mention of the Tiggorns.

Pansy who noticed Draco had suddenly gone silent, turned to look at Draco carefully, "Draco, are you alrigh-"

"Now, the thing abou' Tiggorns tha makes 'em hard ter find is 'cause they spend mos' of their lives in the trees 'an in the skies so mos' people don' get ter see 'em at all."

"So what we have ter do is ter fly up an' meet 'em one by one." Hagrid said as he led the students towards the Forbidden Forest.

'_I don't want to go to the Forest, I don't! You can't make me! You can't!'_ Draco thought frantically as he was pushed by the wave of students towards the Forest.

"But Hagrid, why do we have to meet them by ourselves?" Seamus asked loudly.

"Tha's 'cause they think yeh scared if yeh have ter go in a group, if it's anything tha provokes a Tiggorn, it's fear." Said Hagrid knowledgably, possibly for the first time, but no one was paying attention to his stroke of brilliance, not even Hermione.

Draco, on the other hand, distinctively let out a moan of dread.

"Draco, I asked you if you were alright?" Pansy repeated crossly, stepping towards the boy in concern.

"Now, who wants ter go firs'?" Hagrid asked, looking for volunteers.

"Hn- Huh? I'm fine! Look, leave me alone would you?" Draco spat, snapping out of his daze and sidestepping Pansy.

"Malfoy?" Hagrid asked incredulously.

Draco, in his attempt to ward off Pansy's unwanted concerns, appeared to have just readily volunteered himself as a test drive for the lesson.

Draco realising that the attention of the class was placed on him, cursed silently at Pansy, as he straightened his uniform and decided to humiliate the fat oaf for assuming he had volunteered.

'_And for ruining my grand entrance.'_ Draco added in an afterthought.

"What are we using to get up there? Surely you don't expect us to use those matchsticks?" Malfoy asked disdainfully, staring at the school broomsticks that Hagrid provided them, earning an appreciative laugh from the Slytherins.

Hagrid flushed at that remark. Draco tilted his head to see the reaction of the Golden Duo, only to find that the Granger was too absorbed in her own world, the Weasel too distracted and preoccupied and the Boy who Lived was still no where to be seen.

"I suppose, if Potter isn't here to show off, it's time to see a real professional at work." Said Draco loudly, hoping to infuriate the Weasel King.

But Ron was too distracted with Harry's disappearance that he didn't hear Draco or see him perform the summoning charm for his Nimbus.

Draco gritted his teeth. That was the umpteenth time he failed to get a reaction from the Weasel or the Mudblood; they really must be worried for Scarface.

He rubbed his left wrist absentmindedly, as he swung his legs over his broom and kicked off the grass patch, anticipating the Tiggorn.

As if on cue, Draco saw a Tiggorn leap out of the thick canopy of trees from the Forest as he ascended. He could hear the class whispering with excitement as the Tiggorn came face to face with him.

Draco started, amazed that the Tiggorn had arrived in such a short time, and eyed the Tiggorn warily. It looked exactly like what he had seen on previous occasions, except this one looked more docile.

"Malfoy, yeh better let it sniff you now or it would think yeh scared!" Hagrid shouted from below, causing Draco to break his gaze from the deep ruby eyes of the Tiggorn. The class was so far down.

"Right." Draco mumbled, offering his left hand to the Tiggorn, focusing on his right hand's grip on his broom.

Without so much of a warning, the Tiggorn bared its silver fangs and lunged for Draco's left hand. Draco gave a yell and tried to pull his hand away but the fangs scrapped his wrist.

An old wound split open and blood gushed out, a fountain of red spewing onto the grass far below.

The class erupted into screams as they realised the danger happening above. Draco swore as he clutched his broom with his right hand and tried to swerve away from the clutches of the berserk Tiggorn.

A wave of nausea hit Draco hard.

The pain on Draco's wrist seemed to have doubled. Draco looked down to see that his left arm had a wide gash, exposing the bleeding flesh and several severed veins.

"Don'! Don' fly!" Hagrid yelled, but his warnings could not be heard, and Draco wasn't about to stay and be devoured by the Tiggorn. He ducked as the Tiggorn swiped at him.

He was losing too much blood, the Tiggorn was gaining speed, where was his strength? He was slowing down, _so tired_.

He couldn't dodge the blows anymore; the stupid beast was too fast. Then, the world went black as he lost his grip and plummeted head first.

The Tiggorn followed the falling boy; the air was thick with blood. The Tiggorn wasn't about to give up, the coppery scent of blood intoxicated it, spurning it to hunt down its prey.

It could smell fear.

--

Harry woke with a start to find himself on the ground with blades of grass in his hair. He glanced at his watch, before realising the time.

Swearing, he got up and ran towards Hagrid's cabin - he just couldn't believe he slept through the first half of Care of Magical Creatures, on the first day of school too.

'_Hermione is going to massacre me!'_ Harry thought nervously as he pelted to class.

The scene, as he approached the class, was nothing like he imagined the first class of school ought to be. Instead of students dozing off to Hagrid's attempts to introduce a new dangerous, claw-infested beast, he was greeted with the sight of students running for their lives, screaming their lungs out as a _flying_ tiger hunted Malfoy on a broom.

Wait, what was he expecting anyway? That was a typical lesson for Care for Magical Creatures after all. Well, at least Hagrid saw to the dangerous, claw-infested part.

Malfoy - chased by a flying tiger.

Harry blinked. Maybe he was still dreaming.

No, the tiger was still there.

He stared at the scene for a while unsure of what to do, wondering when Hagrid was going to put a stop to it.

Until he realised that the air was thick with Malfoy's blood and Hagrid couldn't do anything, save for flapping his arms helplessly.

Harry's insides went cold, the blood was pounding in his ears, the deafening screams echoed on the exterior before Harry's instincts kicked in.

Unplugged from his surroundings, Harry did the first thing that came into his mind. He pushed his way through the screaming class towards the falling Malfoy, pulling out his wand from inside his cloak.

"_ACCIO FIREBOLT!"_ He bellowed without hesitation.

Jumping onto his broom before it could come to a halt; Harry rushed towards the falling body, the wind singing at the back of his neck, as he flattened himself against his broom, urging it to go faster.

Panic surged through his veins, as the Tiggorn gained on Malfoy's falling body, silver fangs bared, closing in for the kill, barely inches away from Malfoy's exposed neck.

With a sudden spurt of energy, Harry dived, colliding into Malfoy just as the fangs closed in a flash of silver.

Fastening his grip around Malfoy's chest, Harry pulled out of his dive as the Tiggorn crashed onto the ground, knocked out cold.

As Harry descended, the class surged onto them, led by Hagrid, Ron, Hermione, Parkinson, and Blaise.

"He's dying! He's dying! Oh, Draco!" Screamed Pansy hysterically, tears running down her face as she pulled herself from Blaise's grip, his face deathly pale.

Ron and Hermione looked sickened and frightened, their faces were tense, there was so much blood everywhere. Hagrid was yelling at the class to get Madam Pomfrey but no one was moving.

They were all stricken by the sight of the crimson liquid that spilled over Harry's uniform and covered Malfoy's pallid face, his breath slowing by the minute.

"Draco please, please wake up! Someone get help! Please Draco! Don't die on me! Don't die Draco, please? Don't die-" Pansy sobbed into his blood soaked robes.

Harry stared wordlessly at Hermione and Ron, searching for an explanation for the disaster.

"Oh Harry, we tried-" Hermione started, wringing her hands together nervously, "We tried to Stun it but the spells kept bouncing off- We didn't know what to do!"

Harry opened his mouth to reassure her but was cut off by a distressed cry from the Slytherin.

_Damn it._

What Harry wanted right now was more sleep, but Malfoy was dying. Shaking his head, he approached the prone body of Malfoy tentatively. Malfoy's face was smudged with his blood, his hair out of place and over his face; he looked almost peaceful if not for the fact that he had loss so much blood.

"What are you going t-t- to do Potter?" Pansy sobbed as she clutched Malfoy's prone body.

Harry sighed.

"Look, do me a favour Parkinson, shut up. And move, so that I can save this stupid git here."

Harry looked at the severed arm, and realised why so much blood was being loss, the wound in fact, was opening instead of clotting.

'_Bloody hell. You are a mess.'_

Closing his eyes, Harry inserted the tips of his fingers into the wound and concentrated, he could feel the energy buzzing through his fingertips, a small vibration caused by his own magic.

A golden glow ebbed over the wound as he felt normal, repaired flesh pushing his fingers out of the wound, sealing itself with his magic. Harry relaxed and removed his hand, releasing the breath he had been holding.

--

_Panic swept over Draco, flashes of dim light, cracks of a whip that stung his limbs. Water dripped down the stone walls of the dungeon – deep in the Manor; no one would hear the screaming._

_Blood.  
_

_The stone floor was bathed in it._

"_Lucius, I think a little punishment would be fitting"_

_Black robes, black masks, black manacles – where are you going to run?_

"_Yes, my lord."_

_  
"No, no, no- Father please, Father please, please! Don't! Don't do it! DON'T!"  
_

_Hesitance._

"_Lucius, surely you won't allow such insolence?"_

_Wand raised._

"_I'M YOUR SON! I'M YOUR SON!"_

_  
"YOU ARE NOT MY SON! YOU'LL NEVER BE, UNTIL YOU LEARN THE WAYS OF OUR KIND!"  
_

"_But I didn't do it! I didn't do it! I DIDN'T DO IT!"_

"_Crucio."_

_  
Brightest of blood, everywhere. The stench was revolting. Silence that seemed to swallow the sun, noiseless ringing that crashed down on him. And then darkness, darkness all around that blinded him, and the pair of ruby eyes that never lost its glow._

Malfoy.

_A blast of gold light, the darkness that was about to tighten its noose around his throat disintegrated. Chased away by the unfamiliar warmth. _

Malfoy.

_A tired smile, and then blissful, drunken sleep._

_  
_--

"He'll be alright; he's probably just tired from the chase." Harry reassured Hagrid, gesturing to Malfoy's unconscious body.

"Do you think Hagrid would be fired?" Ron asked nervously, as Hagrid lifted up the still prone body of Malfoy and carried him towards the castle, followed closely by a large group of Slytherins while the rest of Gryffindor broke off for the rest of their classes.

Really, sometimes Ron needed to straighten his priorities. Then again, it was Malfoy and God knows what he would do once he woke. After all, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Harry sighed and flung himself down onto the grass, settling back down into his sleep. Ah, sleep. Yes, Harry needed that. Besides, he still had another half an hour to his next lesson since Hagrid's class was disrupted.

So when he closed his eyes, he did not notice the two shadows that loomed over him, nor did he expect himself to be pulled up by the collar or the screech that followed it.

"HAROLD JAMES POTTER WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!"

--

Author's note: I'm really greedy. One review is never enough! I live on reviews. I work on reviews. Without reviews, I would just keel over and… and… AND DIE! So please, pretty please, review? Or my editor will have my blood for wine.

Editor: Eew sick, as though your blood's that great.

Comatosebum: (highly affronted) I'll have you know that my blood comes from a long line of-

Editor: Neanderthals?

Comatosebum: _GASP! _(Shoots editor a scandalized look)

Comatosebum: Back to my soliloquy, before I was so _rudely_ interrupted, I would really like to know what you lot think of the edited version, oh, and to answer a lot of questions, yes, its Harold James Potter, it's sort of like his formal name, just like Ron is for Ronald, Harry is actually for Harold. But that's just me.

Remember! REVIEW!


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two:  
  
"HAROLD JAMES POTTER, WHERE WERE YOU??"  
  
Harry gave a small yelp as he dangled from his precarious position where Ron was holding him, eyeing Hermione like a particularly nasty female dragon. He opened his mouth to argue in his defence, a lie was starting to form in his throat, something on the lines of helping Flitwick remove a classroom of burping tortoises, when he decided against that idea, shutting his mouth animatedly, and decided to shake his head dumbly. This was, a dumb move, for one who had known Hermione for at least six years would have known better than to let Hermione carry on with her ranting. But of course, this is Harry Potter we are talking about, the Boy who Lived to have a Spectrum of Common Sense Smaller Than that of a Brain of a Pickled Flobberworm.  
  
"DID YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED WE BOTH WERE? We thought you were kidnapped by Voldermort and tortured while we had Care of Magical-bloody- Creatures!! How could you be so thoughtless?? Hagrid was worried sick!! Why didn't you tell anyone where you were going?? How could you be so irresponsible?? What if Voldermort had gotten you and we never even see you again?? All I thought was that the last time I saw you was at breakfast and even that was not a sufficient good-bye, that the last thing I would remember of you was that goddamn disappearing back of yours!!"  
  
Ron was giving Hermione the look he reserved for only one person in the world, the look when Mrs Weasley was angry.  
  
"-And all of a sudden, out of thin air, you appeared on that Firebolt of yours and was trying to save Malfoy!! Did it occur to you that the Tiggorn could have gone after you instead of Malfoy?? And what if it did and then we would have two injured boys instead of one!" Yelled Hermione breathlessly, glaring at the dangling Harry.  
  
"At least I'm still alive." Said Harry meekly. Hermione shot him a dark glare before softening into a smile. Breathing a sigh of relief that no further damage was done, Ron lowered Harry from his awkward position. Harry dusted himself, making his way towards a tree, sitting down under the cool shade. Ron and Hermione followed suit, determined not to let him disappear again. Sitting down beside Harry, Hermione was in deep thought, the recent Care of Magical Creatures fiasco was replaying in her mind. 'Any time now.' Thought Harry, waiting for one of his two best friends to ask the question, Harry sighed, it would be a tedious explanation.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"What is it Ron?"  
  
"Did you realise what you did just now?"  
  
"Yes." resignation was thick in his voice.  
  
Pregnant pause. Any moment now. Harry pressed his dry lips into a tight line.  
  
"You performed the Wronski Feint on a bloody Tiggorn!!"  
  
Harry blinked. That wasn't what he expected to hear. His face split into a grin, his friends didn't realise what had happened just now, they were too caught up with his disappearance and Malfoy to notice what he had done. What he had expected them to ask was on the lines of -  
  
"Harry, are you a Healer?"  
  
Hermione, always the clever one. The balloon of joy was deflated instantly. Harry grimaced, looks like there was no escaping the issue. Ron stared at him incredulously, his eyes widening completely forgetting the stunt worthy of the Quidditch World Cup that Harry pulled off earlier.  
  
"Well, are you?"  
  
Nod. Hermione made a gesture for Harry to explain everything. Ron sat up from his relaxed position on the grass, listening intently.  
  
"I learnt how to be a Healer over the summer holidays. The Dursleys had banned me from leaving the house so when I wasn't spending time in my room doing homework, sleeping or reading, I was 'helping to decorate the living room', or so the Dursleys thought." Pause. "The truth is; I was visiting Remus by using Floo network that the fireplace is connected to. Remus had a friend who was lodging with him for a while, turns out, she's a mediwitch. So she taught me to become a Healer. She's one hell of a slave driver mediwitch, no food or rest until I master something." Harry explained slowly with a laugh, plucking the grass beneath his fingers, feeling the leaves curl and tickle his palms.  
  
"Harry, why did you learn to become a Healer?"  
  
"Ron, isn't it obvious? With Harry being who he is, he will need the training when ever Voldermort decides to attack." Hermione explained exasperatedly, earning a grateful smile from Harry, saved from the task of explaining. The trio then lapsed back into thoughtful silence.  
  
"Harry, are you a registered Healer?" Hermione asked quietly, starting intently at Harry. Harry nodded, confused with Hermione's seriousness on the subject.  
  
"Are you saying that you learnt all the skills of a Healer and was tested and registered by the Ministry all in the months of June, July, August and September? Harry, that's way past seventh year standard!" Hermione said hoarsely in awe.  
  
"I guess. now that you put it that way. Mrs Winson did say I had talent, but then again, she never really let me have a timeout, absolutely adamant that I must train. No, a drink wouldn't help. No, I couldn't eat until later. No, I couldn't break for a walk or play quidditch. Disgusting. I think Remus was relishing my torture." Harry said, screwing up his face in unhappiness of the memory, tugging at the grass broodingly.  
  
"So that's why you rarely returned our letters." Said Ron triumphantly, snapping his fingers, glee spreading across his face. Harry grinned apologetically, "Not like I had a choice right?" The trio laughed and fell back into the peaceful silence that they shared and enjoyed just by having each others company.  
  
"Is anyone going to tell me what the hell happened at Care of Magical Creatures today?" Harry asked, lying on his stomach, propping up his head with his arms. Hermione looked at Ron and explained the whole fiasco in full detail to Harry.  
  
"Wait, did you say Malfoy VOLUNTEERED himself to go first?" Harry asked goggle-eyed, Ron shrugged, as to say, 'Don't look at me, I'm just as shock as you are.' Hermione tsked impatiently before carrying on her explanation.  
  
"The strange thing is that Tiggorns are naturally docile in nature and only attack when they sense fear or smell blood, but Malfoy was neither of the two, so why was he attacked?" Pondered Hermione as she lay back on the grass, finishing her explanation, knitting her eyebrows together.  
  
"Hermione, you were too worried to notice that Malfoy's left wrist was bleeding slightly when he went up." Ron corrected her, "But why was it bleeding in the first place?" Thoughtful silence took over, except for the rustling of the leaves in the tree.  
  
"Uh, guys?" Harry cleared his throat, breaking the silence, "I think we are late for Transfiguration."  
  
--  
  
Draco opened his eyes, and stared at the high ceiling, sitting up quickly, he realised that he was at the Hospital wing. 'How did I manage to get here? The last thing I remembered was that big ugly tiggorn coming down at me with its horrible red eyes.' Thought Draco as he stared out of the window.  
  
"Good you're up, drink that." Madame Pomfrey ordered, motioning to the cup of Pepper-up that was placed at his table. Grudgingly, Draco gulped down the repulsive medicine, just as Pansy and Blaise came bursting through the hospital doors.  
  
"Thank god you're alive." Pansy said as she hugged Draco. Draco sulked mulishly, refusing to return the hug, and refused to look at Pansy as she drew back. Pansy squirmed in awkwardness of the situation.  
  
"Come off it Draco, don't tell me you're angry with Pansy for that accident." Blaise said frowning at Draco's childishness. Draco crossed his arms and squared his shoulders, staring at Blaise and giving him the, 'So what if I am?' look.  
  
"Well, it's your fault that you want me to act like your clingy girlfriend; I certainly did not ask you to step away from our class to look like you were volunteering yourself." Burst Pansy angrily, whacking Draco on the head with a pillow. Finally, after a few more whacks, Draco surrendered, admitting that there was no way anyone could be blamed for the accident, not even the fat oaf of a professor could be sued, or the monster put down.  
  
"Where's my broom?" Draco asked in apprehension that it wasn't smashed by the stupid Tiggorn like Potter's Nimbus. Blaise laughed and told him it was in his room, cleaned and usable, really all he could worry about was that stupid broom of his.  
  
"So, what happened after I fainted?" Draco asked, rubbing his left wrist. Pansy started to launch into a detailed account of what had happened after Draco had become unconscious, Draco who wasn't really paying attention, was fingering his wrist, noting that the wrist was healed by wandless magic, not the usual style of Madame Pomfrey. Come to think about it, Madame Pomfrey didn't give the usual abundant amount of medicine this time, only Pepper-up. This baffled Draco, for he only knew one person who could do wandless magic and that was h-  
  
"-And then Potter stuck his fingers into your wound and it started to heal- "  
  
"Pansy, did you say Potter healed my wound?" Draco asked incredulously.  
  
"Draco where have you been? Pansy said from the start that Potter had saved you from that bloody Tiggorn, of course he healed your wound."  
  
"Correct me if I'm wrong Blaise, but I thought I just heard you say that Harry-freaking-Potter, the Boy who Bloody Lived, saved me." Draco said with a laugh, as if the whole thing was a joke. Pansy and Blaise exchanged looks before nodding their heads.  
  
"WHAT?" Yelled Draco as he fell backwards in a dead faint. 


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three:  
  
Draco cracked open his eyes. The early rays of the morning sun had filtered through his heavy velvet green drapes that surrounded his four poster bed. Exhaling deeply through his nose, he scrunched up his face as he lazily picked at the dirt that accumulated at his eyes during the night. Slowly, he arched his back upwards, forcing himself to stretch his body totally, the tip of his toes touching the board at the end of the bed. Allowing a yawn to escape, he scratched his ribs before he pulled himself out of the warm shelter of his plush blankets and sat up, allowing his legs to dangle of the edge of the bed. After a whole ten minutes of convincing himself that education was necessary for success and was the main reason why he had to get up, Draco summoned his clothes from his wardrobe while he padded to the shower, determined to remove the filth that had caked over his face and body.  
  
As he got out of his steaming shower, he fumbled for a fluffy towel, and stepped out of the shower tray and onto the smooth bathroom floor that was enchanted to be warm at all times. To prevent his clothes from creasing, he pulled on his clothes meticulously and towelled dry his wet gleaming hair. Folding back his sleeves to prevent them from getting wet as he brushed his teeth, he caught a glimpse of his left wrist. Running a finger down the inside of the healed arm, he noted that Potter did not heal him properly and had left a faint trace of a scar on his arm. Tsking at Potter's poor healing skills, Draco busied himself with his teeth, and the decided that it was worth while being a prefect at Hogwarts with all the wonderful facilities.  
  
Stepping back from the mirror, Draco admired his handy work. Of course it wasn't some art piece he was working on, but then again, a Malfoy's image was to be presented like a masterpiece. He stared at the polished surface of the mirror, pleased with what he saw. His platinum blond hair was gelled back in place, his tie was perfectly straight, his uniform was pressed and creaseless, his black shoes were gleaming, his face like a mask, his eyes carefully guarded that they represented chips of ice, his smirk etched artfully across his lips. Draco knew the image he gave the rest of the school screamed, 'Rich, Respected and Ravishing.' It was no wonder why most of the female population, and some males, of Hogwarts were dying to be in Pansy's shoes, to be the apple of Draco's eyes. If only they knew that it was all an act. There was a knock on the door.  
  
'It must be Pansy.' Draco thought as he crossed his room to open the door. Sure enough, it was Pansy, waiting to "escort" Draco to the Great Hall, and enter it as if they had been together all night. One thing great about being a Slytherin prefect was that they did not sleep with the rest of the house and had their own private rooms. Something that Salazaar decided to give to his beloved pureblood prefects, of course the other Houses prefects did not know of this special privilege. But it made things a whole lot easier for Draco and Pansy. Draco stepped out of his room as they exchanged greetings of "Good Morning". Walking down the corridor that led straight to the Great Hall and enabled them to avoid interaction with the rest of the school (another gift from Salazaar), Draco and Pansy chatted animatedly about things one never finds a Slytherin talking about, like which was the most disgusting Bertie's Botts Every Flavoured Bean they came across (Mandrake Sweat).  
  
"How's your arm? Feeling a lot better today I hope?" Pansy inquired with concern, indicating to Draco's arm. Draco nodded and pulled up his sleeve to show her the arm.  
  
"Wow, I must say, Potter's quite good, not even a faintest hint of a scar." Pansy mused as she held Draco's arm close to her eyes, studying the arm thoroughly. Draco grunted gruffly as he pushed back the sleeve, covering the flawless skin of the arm.  
  
"You don't have to be so touchy about it you know," Pansy said reproachfully, "Mind you; it was tough to act all angry with Potter as if he was the one who injured you when all I could think about was you bleeding yourself to death."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"What was that Draco? I didn't hear you." Pansy said in a sing song voice, a grin on her face.  
  
"I said I'm sorry!" Draco said, raising his voice a little, his cheeks flushed and thoroughly embarrassed. Pansy hummed softly, casting Draco an all knowing look that only served to irritate him more. As they approached the Great Hall, Draco started hissing instructions to Pansy.  
  
"Now remember, girlfriend, madly in love with me. I'm marvellous."  
  
Pansy felt a flicker of irritation, Draco was always obsessed with his image, "Just call me 'Darling'" she said as they stop just outside the doors of the Great Hall.  
  
"How do I look?" Asked Draco, smoothing out his uniform.  
  
"You're fine, absolutely gorgeous." Pansy said calmingly, picking a piece of lint off his shoulder.  
  
"And me?"  
  
"Stunning."  
  
"Right, then let's knock them dead." Pansy said, earning a fleeting grin from Draco as they marched into the Great Hall, hand in hand.  
  
As they entered the Great Hall, the activity of the student population, came to a standstill, all eyes following the pair to the Slytherin table, all except those of the Golden Trio. As that second passed, the student population seemed to have snapped out of its reverie as violent whispers blazed across the other houses' tables, no doubt talking about yesterday's accident. Draco sighed as he sat down; it was going to be a long day. People from his table were congratulating him for surviving the "ordeal" and praising him on how brave he was, he himself was saying things that only gave others the impression on what a cocky little snot he was. Blaise was at the other end of the table, holding his gaze with a raised eyebrow that looked as if he was thoroughly amused by the whole act. Shooting a death glare at Blaise, Draco gave a sidelong glance at the Gryffindor table, to see that the Mudblood looked absolutely furious and appalled, the Weasel was bent over the table, no doubt trying to complete some unfinished homework, the Golden Boy, seemed too interested with his porridge and did not seem to hear what the Mudblood was whispering into his ear while throwing dirty looks at the Weasel on regular intervals. If only life was that simple.  
  
--  
  
"I can't believe he has the cheek to waltz in here like he owns the place and ignore the fact that you were the one who saved his skin yesterday." Hissed Hermione, obviously outraged by Malfoy's ungratefulness. Harry looked up from his bowl of porridge to see Malfoy sit himself between Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
"What did you expect Hermione? He's a Malfoy; poisonous toadstools don't change their spots." Ron said as though he wanted to fling the comment straight into Malfoy's face, as he looked up to catch Malfoy boasting on how he dodged the Tiggorn, he narrowed his eyes in disgust before he turned his attention back to his work. Hermione gave Ron a dirty look, pressing her lips into a thin line that could rival McGonagall's, well if he wasn't going to complete his homework; she certainly wasn't going to help him. As if on cue, Ron threw his quill angrily onto the table, splattering black ink everywhere. Cursing, he pointed his wand to the mess and muttered, "Scourgify", casting a hopeful glance at Hermione, hoping his pathetic look would melt her heart. Hermione rolled her eyes at his stupid attempts and turned her attention to Harry.  
  
"Listen, Harry, aren't you going to do anything about Malfoy's ungrateful behaviour? Don't you think that you at least deserve a 'thank you' for saving him?" Hermione said, tapping Harry lightly on his shoulders to gain his attention. Harry finally tore his gaze away from Malfoy.  
  
"'Mione," He said, evidently preoccupied and hadn't heard what Hermione had said, "Do you think you could help me later on? I need to go to the library during lunch break to research on Tiggorns, since I missed the whole lesson and I might need your expertise on the books." Hermione, who was still miffed by Harry's blatant ignorance to her question, softened upon hearing of visiting the library. Her eyes filled with tears as she clapped Harry on the shoulder, "Harry, I'm so proud of you, you're finally understanding the true importance of education."  
  
"Ha ha. Very funny Hermione."  
  
--  
  
"Class dismissed."  
  
Never in Harry's life, has he ever wanted to hear those two magical words. He viciously flung his things into his bag and stormed out of the dungeons, fuming mad. That had got to be the worst Potions lesson he had ever taken in his life. How the hell did he manage to land himself in the Advanced class for Potions? It was _Potions_, his worst subject right after Divination, and yet, somehow, he managed to score Outstanding for his OWLs. 'Those sick bastards of invigilators must have graded me out of sheer sadism.' Thought Harry, as he made for the library. First the three of them turned up late for class, but he was the only one to have points deducted. Then, he was partnered with Malfoy, who, when he wasn't sneering and throwing insults, ignored him like he was one of the pickled toads in jars. And somehow, the rhino beetles that they were suppose to add to concoct the potion kept jumping out of his cauldron, Harry knew Malfoy had something to do with it, but it was impossible as Malfoy would a need a wand but his wand was in his bag all along. To top it all, Snape punished him for "playing with his ingredients" by making him write a five foot long essay as to why rhino beetles were essential in the making of the Minotaur's Draught and its uses.  
  
"Harry, wait for us!" Hermione yelled as she and Ron chased after him, Ron was still trying to cramp his things into his bag while he tried frantically to keep up. Harry slowed down and waited for his friends to catch up.  
  
"Hermione, can you explain to me why am I still in Potions, and how the hell did I get into Advanced Potions?" Harry screeched, his eyes threatening to pop out. Hermione shrugged and said reassuringly, "Y'know Harry, you're really better than what you think you're. Honestly, don't think so low of yourself."  
  
"Yeah mate, I mean think about it, I'm in Advanced Potions too, that's how lenient the invigilators were. At least we can say that we aren't too bad in our studies, being in all the good classes, plus, at least it's definite that we're all going to be Aurors." Ron said patting his back. Harry moaned, "I hope I'll survive the year just based on the mantra, at least you don't get picked on by him."  
  
Ron patted his back sympathetically, that was something even he couldn't argue about. Suddenly, Harry let out a groan again, "Why don't you both head off to the library first? I left my Potions text in the dungeons, and I got to go and retrieve it."  
  
Ron and Hermione nodded and went off in the direction of the library, while Harry turned and returned back to the dungeons. Entering the dungeons, he noticed that Snape was still there at the teacher's bench, apparently grading some second year's work.  
  
"What do you want Potter? Most students don't come begging me to take away points from them." Snape said dryly as he stared at Harry with a raised eyebrow, his quill poised. Harry carefully averted his stare to avoid infuriating Snape as he headed to his bench to retrieve his forgotten book.  
  
"Err; I had left this behind, Professor." He said, raising the book to show Snape the evidence. Snape responded with a flick of his head, returning to his pile of work, obviously dismissing Harry. Harry stood there for a minute, thinking over the real reason why he decided to return; did he really want to go ahead with it? After a minute of hesitancy, he decided to go ahead with his choice. He cleared his throat again to get Snape's attention. Snape looked up sharply; evidently surprised that Harry was still there.  
  
"What is it this time Potter?"  
  
Harry fidgeted, he didn't expect to be asked that soon, in fact, he was hoping for a bit of insult and dealing out of punishments before he had to ask Snape for the favour.  
  
"Professor, I was wondering," Harry said, playing with the hem of his sleeve.  
  
"Spit it out Potter, I haven't got all day to listen to your aimless babble."  
  
"Do you think you could teach me occlumency?"  
  
Snape was midway into insulting Harry again when he caught what Harry had said, and closed his mouth audibly. He eyed Harry suspiciously; it was obvious he was going through the possible ulterior motives on why Harry would want to take up such torture so willingly.  
  
"Sit down Potter."  
  
Harry obeyed, patiently sitting down on the nearest chair, fingering a bit of his robes as he bit on his lower lip, waiting in apprehension on what Snape would do next. Snape on the other hand, had his eyebrows knitted together. Should he just agree to get Potter out of his sight? He stared at the waiting boy; the clear lack of motive was unnerving.  
  
"Give me one good reason Potter, why I would want to suffer the ordeal of having to teach you." Snape said, regaining his composure, leaning over his table to study the boy.  
  
"Simply because Voldermort is back and I want to be on my guard against him, Professor." Harry said defiantly, as though stating the obvious. 'So, it's Black's death that is the real cause.' Thought Snape as he returned Harry's challenging stare.  
  
"You may leave now, Potter." Snape said, as he returned to his pile of unmarked homework, indicating that the matter was close. Harry opened his mouth to demand an answer and shut it as he realised that Snape wasn't going to give him an answer without at least having to sleep over the matter. Nodding curtly, he turned and made his way to the library, the sound of his footsteps echoing loudly off the dungeon walls.  
  
--  
  
Harry burst into the library, earning a disapproving sniff from Madam Pince, roving his eyes over the library; he caught the flaming hair of Ron, who towered over most of the students in his year. Ron, who was doing anything but studying noticed Harry and beckoned him over to join their table with a wave. Harry flashed him a grin as he crossed the library to join them, pulling up a chair and seating himself next to Hermione. Hermione, who was poring over a thick, dusty, ancient looking book, shoved a book that looked exactly the same under Harry's nose, telling him vaguely that it was the book he was looking for. Thanking her gratefully, he started to scan through the book quickly, searching for the piece of information that he was looking for. After an hour of flipping through the pages and tolerating Ron's ever increasing whines of the lack of food, Harry finally looked up from the book, a triumphant smile plastered on his face.  
  
"Hermione!! I know why Malfoy's arm was bleeding in the first place!!" He said in an excited whisper, his eyes dancing fervently, as though he could barely contain his excitement.  
  
"Ha! I knew this wasn't just about homework!!"  
  
Hermione shot a death glare at Ron, which immediately caused the redhead to shut up, motioning for Harry to explain.  
  
"You see, it says here, '. a wound caused by a Tiggorn is capable of reopening even after being healed if the victim had undergone severe physical damage by the Tiggorn. In such a case, the wound will reopen when exposed to the magical field that is cast by a Tiggorn, and will reopen even though it isn't the Tiggorn that inflicted the injury.'"  
  
Hermione listened intently as realisation dawned upon her, her eyes widening in understanding, "This means Malfoy must have been hurt by a Tiggorn before."  
  
"Serves him right, the stupid ungrateful git." Muttered Ron darkly, not feeling the least bit sorry for the Slytherin as Hermione turned to chide him.  
  
"Very clever Mudblood. I'm flattered to find out that the three of you are part of my fan club." Malfoy said as he stepped out from behind a large book shelf.  
  
--  
  
Draco paused from his action of removing a book from the shelf. He swore he heard Potter's contained whisper somewhere in the library. Abandoning his reason for visiting the library, he darted between the shelves, determined to hear what Scarface had to say. Satisfied with his hearing range from the Golden Trio, he strained to catch what they were saying, his eyes widening as he caught snatches of their conversation. So, they had found out about his wound, he really had to hand it to them, first, for noticing the oddness of the whole incident yesterday, and second, for bothering to find out. A frown crossed his face as he heard the Weasel's insult; no one insulted a Malfoy and got away with it. He stepped out from behind the bookshelf, with the intention of making the Weasel pay.  
  
"Very clever Mudblood. I'm flattered to find out that the three of you are part of my fan club."  
  
It was amusing, to see the shock on the Mudblood's face, delightful, to see the Weasel tense in fury, but oddly, it was enrapturing, to see Potter just staring at him, his face devoid of all emotions, yet sensing the energy bursting out from those unnatural green eyes. Averting his gaze from Scarface, Draco turned his attention to Potter's loyal sidekicks, Granger being the first to recover, stood up, her face set, readying herself for the argument.  
  
"Clearly Malfoy, you have no idea how to show gratitude, most people try not to insult their lifesaver when doing so."  
  
"Mudblood, unlike you and pet Weasel, I have no intention of helping Scarface boost his career as hero of the disgraceful wizarding world." Draco said smoothly, staring at the shorter girl. The Weasel made an action to stand, as though he was going to strangle Draco but was held back by Potter.  
  
"Bad Weasel! Sit! Sit, that's right, listen to Potter." Draco mocked, barely able to contain his laughter as the Weasel struggled in Potter's hold, only to stop when Granger shot him a look.  
  
"What do you want Malfoy?" Potter asked, his face expressionless, but his hand was tensed, ready to reach for his wand if the situation called for it. Draco strode over, as if to intimidate Potter. Potter remained unmoved, tilting his head slightly, challenging Draco silently.  
  
"Don't mess with me Potter, you won't like it." Draco warned, his grey eyes flashed dangerously, studying Potter's green eyes, that reflected the same energy, both challenging each other, they were so close, they were invading each other's personal space, each daring the other to pull away, Harry could feel Malfoy's breath on his cheeks, it was amazing how the both of them could stand the tension between them, Draco could sense the magic radiating off Potter, the intensity, the feeling of his own magic charging through him like tingling electric currents. A silent battle roaring in their heads. Then, Draco stepped back with a smirk, turned and left the silent library.  
  
"Utter lunatic," Ron said, shaking his head at Malfoy's disappearing back into the darkened corridor, "What was that all about anyway?"  
  
Harry shrugged, just as puzzled at Malfoy's odd behaviour. Hermione returned to her seat, a thoughtful look etched across her face, just now, she was positive she could feel the magic permeating off the two wizards; it was like continuous waves of magic rolling off the two of them. But that was impossible; both of them had to be capable of performing wandless magic, but one had to be really powerful to do so, as wandless magic was definitely beyond seventh year standard, and most mature wizards and witches were incapable of wandless magic. She had to look up that branch of magic, she thought, making a mental note of it. She was startled out of her train of thoughts when Harry flung down his quill, biting back a curse.  
  
"What is it mate?"  
  
"I forgot that I'm running low on Centaurs' Weed, we'll need that for next Potions right?" Nods of confirmation only caused Harry to groan.  
  
"Great, I'll be right back; I need to buy some off Snape before he finds another reason to put me in detention." Harry said, as he reluctantly slid off his chair and made his way to the dungeons for the third time that day. Ron gave him a look of empathy, before Hermione told him to concentrate on his work.  
  
--  
  
Draco needed to think. A place without the rest of the student population screwing up his thinking. Which was why he was heading to the lake during mid-autumn, although he was fully aware that he might just freeze his brains out instead. As he approached the edge of the lake, he cast his bag to one side, and flopped down onto the grass. The scene in the library replaying in his head.  
  
'Yep, Potter could definitely do wandless magic,' Thought Draco, remembering the feeling of magic rippling over him, little vibrations of electric currents, 'although I don't think he is aware of it.'  
  
Then another thought struck Draco, was he really grateful for Potter saving his life? 'Anyone could have done it, is just that Potter had to do it.' Would he be grateful if anyone else had done it? 'Well it depends right? Had it been Pansy or Blaise, of course I would have been grateful. If it were anyone else then I'd have to keep my image first right?' Does that mean he is grateful for Potter, just unable to show it because of his image? 'How the hell am I suppose to know? Bloody hell, it's Harry-freaking- Potter. I don't need his charity.'  
  
'Argh, forget it. Even if I'm grateful, it's not like I can go up and say, 'Hey Harry, thanks man, you're a real lifesaver.' A Malfoy should never be in need of help, and anyway, that sounds stupid.' Thought Draco, rubbing the back of his neck, losing himself in his thoughts.  
  
--  
  
The greatest gift one could give Harry this year for Christmas would be common sense. Right now, Harry was scourging around the floor of the Forbidden Forest, looking for his much needed Centaurs' Weed. He had gone to the dungeons to look for Snape, only to find the dungeons empty. Of course, it did not occur to him that he could look for Snape in the teachers' room if he was really desperate, nor did it occur to him that he could always ask Snape tomorrow, as his next Potions lesson would only be on Thursday. No, our Harry had to follow his Gryffindor impulse and make the trek to the Forbidden Forest. And now since he was there, he might as well look for the confounded Centaurs' Weed.  
  
The scene at the library was going through his head again. Why didn't Malfoy want them to find out about him? 'Yes, ask the obvious, would you want anyone peeping into your private life?' Harry thought. What was he playing at just now? He still could feel Malfoy's breath on him, and that weird tingling sensation that washed over him. Harry was so caught up in his thoughts, that he was making so much noise, crashing through the forest, disrupting the silence. Harry was so caught up in his thoughts; he kicked a boulder by accident, only to find out in his horror that the boulder made a noise, and that on closer look, the boulder was BREATHING!!  
  
'Oh, crap.'  
  
Harry plunged his hand into his pocket, with the full intention of stunning the troll as it leapt to its feet, to find out in dismay, that he left his wand at the library.  
  
"Great, just great." Muttered Harry, before he broke into a run, the enraged troll tearing after him.  
  
Harry darted between the tall trees of the forest hoping to confuse and shake off the troll, but to no avail, the troll was smashing everything in its way, ploughing through the forest as though the tall trees were just fragile sticks. Harry could smell the putrid breath of the troll on the back of his neck. The troll roared, frustrated that Harry was dodging all its blows, making the extra effort to destroy the creature that awoke it from its sleep. Harry started to tire as the troll's blows became quicker and more reckless. He had to make it out of the Forest and into safety. He had to.  
  
--  
  
A roar erupted from the Forbidden Forest, knocking Draco out of his thoughts. Draco tensed up, should he run? He certainly did not want whatever was from the Forest to find him. Again, another roar. He could hear the crashing of trees. Whatever it was, it was getting nearer. Sudden realisation struck Draco, it was chasing something. Unable to take the suspense, Draco allowed his curiosity to get the better of him, he walked to the side of the Forbidden Forest which was near the lake, hoping he could see what was happening from where he stood.  
  
Then from the Forest, a boy ran out into the open field of the school, assuming that he would be safe and that whatever was chasing him would not have the courage to follow him into the school, he stopped running.  
  
Suddenly, two trees were ripped apart and Draco saw what was chasing the boy. A huge mountain troll erupted from the Forest and into the clearing; the monster was at least thirty feet tall and was an ugly sight. A mould of fat and leathery grey skin speckled with warts and pockets of pus, on two stubby legs was the closest description. It looked around the clearing for the boy, and spotted him, making a swipe for the boy.  
  
'Holy shit! That boy is Potter!' Thought Draco, recognising the mop of raven hair.  
  
Potter tried to dodge the troll, but the monster managed to catch Potter's leg, a sickening crack was heard. Potter collapsed onto the grass, unable to escape. The troll was advancing onto Potter, who did not make any attempt to run, in fact, it didn't look like Potter could run anywhere. Impulse took over as Draco ran up to the scene, attracting the troll's attention. Disturbed, the troll turned to face the new source of trouble, its dumb looking eyes focusing on Draco. Enraged at the second disturbance, which delayed it from having a decent meal, the troll raised its hand into the air, teetering there for a moment, before bringing it down.  
  
Draco saw the blister-infested, wart-covered hand rushing down to him, a gust of wind so strong, it roared in his ears. So that's what death was like, rushing to you, so fast you didn't have time to stop it, or prevent it. But Draco didn't want to die, at least, not now. Not by the hand of a repulsive troll. Instinctively, Draco knew he had to stun the creature. Without time to reach for his wand, he yelled, "STUPEFY!!"  
  
The troll's hand paused in midair, tottering for a brief second. The troll swayed its head stupidly, its mouth hung open loosely. Then, it let out a groan, as its eyes rolled upwards, and the troll fell backwards, causing the floor to shake, its head limp.  
  
Draco let out the pent up air that had built up in him. Potter sat on the grass, unmoving. His face was pale, sweat was pouring down his face, his spectacles dangling dangerously at the tip of his nose. His teeth were gritted together, his ragged breath was so loud, Draco could hear it over the breathing of the massive troll. His face was contorted in pain and he was clutching his right ankle, the knuckles of his hands were white. Tentatively, Draco approached Potter, one look at Scarface; Draco knew Potter had broken his ankle.  
  
"Stay still." Draco muttered silently as he kneeled down beside Potter. Potter shot him the look that said do I look like I am going any where? Preoccupied, Draco pulled off Potter's shoe, folding up his pants to reveal a swollen ankle, badly twisted at an odd angle. Lightly, he pressed his slender fingers against the broken bone, bit his lower lip in concentration, allowing his magic to flow through the tips of his fingers, his fingers let off a golden glow as he gently healed the broken ankle and twisted it into its proper position. Pleased with his work, Draco looked up, to see Potter staring at him with an incredulous look. Then realising what he had just done, Draco's eyes widened in horror, before he bolted, leaving Potter in the open field next to a stunned troll.  
  
--  
  
Author's note:  
  
Finally managed to finish this chapter, it's longer than the other cos I decided this ought to be the explain all chapter, thanks to sakura and rowan for pointing out the mistake in the months. Erm.. it will be slash but only in the later chapters, so be patient. A big thank you to all the reviewers. Please review!! 


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four:  
  
Draco sprinted down the corridor, the sound of his shoes against the floor echoed off the walls. Blood was pounding in his head; all he could think about was getting to his room as fast as possible. His cloak was billowing behind him, his hair was flying loosely over his face, a soundless noise was roaring in his ears, panting, he thundered into his room, slamming the door behind him, collapsing into a nearby couch. Draco frantically raked his fingers through his hair, his fingers twitching as he fumbled to remove his cloak and loosen his tie. He cringed as he held his head in his hands, massaging his temples as he drew in deep gasps of air, attempting to clear his mind.  
  
'WHAT WAS I THINKING??' Draco screamed mentally, his eyes bulging out, apparently still in shock with his actions. He balled his hands and stared at his pale fingers. 'WHAT THE HELL POSESSED ME TO SAVE POTTER??'  
  
'Right, calm down. Nothing happened, so you saved Potter from a troll, big deal. You're just returning the favour.' Draco tried reasoning with his irrational self, shutting his eyes to block out possible distractions.  
  
'Yeah genius, you saved him using wandless magic, what do you think Dumbledork might say once he heard of it? He'll lock you up in a laboratory to study you. Or worse, he'll throw you into Azkaban for being an unregistered Healer.' Draco groaned; this couldn't be happening to him, why did he have to develop the stupid Gryffindor emotion called conscience?  
  
Had he not saved Potter, he wouldn't be having this problem! Where were his Slytherin analytical skills when he needed it? He could have easily gotten the troll from where he stood, without the need for wandless magic and Potter would never know it was him, why did he have to run up to the troll?  
  
A loud rapping on the door jolted Draco to his senses. He stared at the wooden door, an internal battle raging within him; did he really want to deal with people at the present moment? Finally Draco dragged himself off the couch, and opened the door to see Pansy twirling a lock of her hair, looking thoroughly amused for reasons Draco really didn't want to hear right now.  
  
"Well, for one who wants me to act like a clingy girlfriend, you certainly look like you've been unfaithful." She teased; eyeing Draco's dishevelled state, a faint smile threatening to break across her face. Draco had half the mind on slamming the door in Pansy's face. Instead, he crossed his room and flopped onto his bed.  
  
"So, what seems to be the matter?" Pansy asked conversationally, letting herself into the room. Without hesitation, Draco blurted out the incident, his face buried in a pillow.  
  
"-then I realised what I did and ran back here."  
  
Pansy tapped her chin thoughtfully.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"I'm going to be sent to Azkaban and all you can say is 'oh'??" Draco screeched as he got up from his position, his eyes threatening to spill out of their sockets.  
  
Pansy shot him a dirty look, forcing him to sit down again.  
  
"Draco, does your father know you're an unregistered Healer?"  
  
A look of horror crossed Draco's face, causing him to pale visibly. Pansy noticed this and tried to calm him down by reasoning with him, besides had there been other students in the vicinity surely they would have saved Potter before Draco did. Draco nodded listlessly, grounding the heels of his hands against his eyeballs. He was in deeper trouble than he thought.  
  
Again, someone was pounding on the door; there was a sense of urgency in the knocking.  
  
"Draco, open up, now!"  
  
Pansy glanced at Draco, who made no move to open the door. Sighing, she opened the door, narrowly missed being crushed by Blaise who burst into the room.  
  
"Draco, have you been to the common room? Have you heard what they are saying? Is it true that you saved Potter?"  
  
Draco felt his stomach plunged.  
  
"I'm going to die." He said hoarsely, punching a nearby pillow.  
  
Draco felt a sharp pain, as though his chest was tightening, it wouldn't be long before his father found out about this. Being an unregistered Healer was one thing, knowing that his son saved the Dark Lord's adversary would send Lucius Malfoy into a reckless rage.  
  
"What are you going to do?" Blaise asked quietly, his dark eyes piercing into Draco.  
  
Draco gave a hollow laughter, "What can I do Blaise? I just forfeited my life. As far as my father's concerned, I'm already disowned. As far as the Dark Lord is concerned, I'm already dead."  
  
At the mentioning of Voldermort, Draco went quiet. His eyes glazed over, his face set in mute horror.  
  
"I'm going to die." Draco whispered.  
  
"Nobody's going to die."  
  
"Blaise, have you forgotten whose son I am?? I'm the Dark Lord's right hand man's son!! When he finds out what has happened he'll kill me!! He'll kill my family!! He'll find out! He'll find out! He knows what has happened."  
  
Shaking, Draco got up from his bed, went to his closet and started throwing his things into his trunk.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"I'm leaving."  
  
"Where will you go?"  
  
"Anywhere!! I don't care!! I need to get away!! I'm not safe here!! I have to go Blaise, I have to."  
  
"And you think the Dark Lord won't find you? Out of Hogwarts, you make an easier target Draco!"  
  
"And you think Hogwarts can protect me from him?? Do you know he can make my father take me out of Hogwarts and nobody would notice me gone?" Draco cried shrilly, his eyes flashing wildly, his breaths irregular. Books were flying off his shelves, a nearby inkwell shattered from his uncontrolled magic.  
  
"Tell Dumbledore. He'll protect you. He's the only one who can." Pansy said for the first time, the fear was apparent in her eyes.  
  
"He won't trust me Pansy! I'm a Death Eater's son!"  
  
"Then tell him!! Tell him that you're okay!! Tell him you're not one of them!! He's the only chance of survival you've got left."  
  
"It'll only make matters worst Pansy!! It's as good as me going over to the good side!! If I do that, my family dies!! Do you understand this? Everyone!! Not just my parents and I but everyone who is related to the Malfoys!! Even if you are married into the family, you die all the same!!"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous Draco; the Dark Lord wouldn't risk obliterating most of the purebloods."  
  
Draco stared at Blaise dangerously, "How do you know he wouldn't?"  
  
Blaise shrugged, "He's never done it before, and he only accepts purebloods as his Death Eaters."  
  
"That's because this will be the first time he'll be doing it. It's a written punishment to warn traitors who openly defy him. And if he doesn't wipe out the whole family line, he'll torture them. Do you know if I go to Dumbledore, Pansy will be inflicted?"  
  
That stopped Blaise from arguing.  
  
Pansy scoffed, "Honestly Draco, I don't care what happens to me. So what if the Dark Lord gets me? At least I'm fighting for what I believe in."  
  
"Pansy, don't you know what happened to the Longbottoms?"  
  
Pansy turned her head away from Draco's gaze. Tears were welling in her eyes, the thought of Draco leaving chilled her, but she brushed them away. She wasn't going to let Draco see her cry; Draco had enough problems of his own to take care of, the last thing he needed was some sobbing, hysterical girl before he had to escape death.  
  
Draco bit his lip, Pansy refused to look him in the eye and Blaise was staring at him in defeat. Nodding slightly, he looked down. 'So this was it.' He thought.  
  
"I'm going now." He said awkwardly, bending down to pick up his packed trunk. The room was deathly quiet; the situation was almost too surreal for Draco. As he turned to leave, struggling slightly to get his trunk through the doorframe, Pansy let out a gasp. Looking up, Draco saw at the window, a magnificent eagle owl, carrying a letter which bore the Malfoy seal.  
  
Hesitating, he left his trunk at the doorway and made his way to the window, opening it to let the bird in. Reaching out with shaky hands, he took the letter from the bird which took off immediately. Sitting at the window sill, Draco ripped open the letter, flinging the envelope to one side, his eyes darted across the letter, scrutinising every word written. His face furrowed in confusion.  
  
"What does it say?" Blaise said softly, breaking the silence.  
  
Draco looked up. His hands clutching tightly to the letter.  
  
"It's from my father." he started with a shaky voice, "it says here, that he managed to convince the ministry that I'm a registered Healer, so I don't have to go to Azkaban." he broke off.  
  
"How did he do it?" Pansy asked directly.  
  
"He paid them as usual; Fudge is such a pushover. except now I'm really a registered Healer."  
  
"What did he say about you being a Healer?"  
  
"He says he's most displeased that I had become a Healer without notifying him. he also says he expects a good reason for my actions, but only when I meet him in the December holidays.  
  
"Isn't that good?"  
  
Draco nodded, his face still scrunched up in deep thought.  
  
"But the reason for you becoming a Healer, that isn't going to please him."  
  
Another nod.  
  
"Well, at least you get a few months to think of a good reason."  
  
"Yes, I s'pose. but this isn't like him at all." Draco murmured softly.  
  
"What did he say about you saving Potter?" Blaise pressed, more concerned about the latter.  
  
Shaking himself out of his reverie, Draco continued, "He told me that though he is disappointed that I didn't kill Potter on the spot, or leave the troll to kill him. Nevertheless, he says we can use this to our advantage, he told me to use Potter's debt to lure him to the Dark Lord. It says here that he will inform me what I must do to use this incident to assist the Dark Lord in his victory. He writes and tells me this is how I must go about in school, he tells me not to let the others think otherwise."  
  
"'The others' being other Slytherins?"  
  
Draco nodded, letting out a shaky sigh of relief. He didn't have to leave after all. Nobody was going to die because of him. His father had unwittingly managed to save him. Why didn't he think of it? He had gotten worried over nothing after all!  
  
"You realise that your position is more dangerous than before right?" Blaise asked seriously.  
  
"Yes. But I'm safe for now." Draco said, smiling faintly, the crushing weight lifted off his chest.  
  
"Safe and sound." Pansy joked feebly, collapsing back into the couch, exhausted.  
  
"I'm not so sure about the latter." Muttered Blaise, as he joined Pansy on the couch.  
  
"I heard that, you sod!" Draco yelled, launching a pillow into Blaise's face, the danger momentarily forgotten.  
  
--  
  
Harry hobbled back to the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Hermione were no where to be found when he finally made it back to the library, Harry assumed they got bored waiting for him and returned to the Gryffindor House. He couldn't help feeling the least bit put off, after all, it was painstaking to haul his right leg all over the Hogwarts castle. Not that it hurt really, it was just numbed, no sense of feeling whatsoever. Must be a side effect from being healed, thought Harry, anxious to tell his friends what he just witness.  
  
Climbing through the portrait hole, he scanned the common room, his eyes falling on their favourite seats by the window. Sure enough, his two friends were there, their heads bent over their homework. Making his way to the seats, Harry settled down in a squashy armchair, startling his friends from their work.  
  
"Oh, there you're Harry." Hermione said, looking up from her work.  
  
"You alright there mate? You look like you've been exercising. You're not getting out of shape are you? It was only a trip to the dungeons and back." Ron asked suspiciously, worried for the Gryffindor seeker.  
  
Harry laughed off Ron's suspicions, before giving his friends a detailed account of what happened when he left the library.  
  
"Hold on a sec," Ron said suddenly, interrupting Harry in mid-sentence, "are you saying that Malfoy saved you from that troll?"  
  
"I think stopping the troll from crushing Harry, would qualify as saving, Ron." Hermione said poisonously, rolling her eyes as Ron feigned a hurt look.  
  
"Ah, but you're missing the point, why would Malfoy want to save Harry? There must be some form of ulterior motive."  
  
"Ron, do us a favour, shut up."  
  
Harry shook his head at his friends' antics, before plunging back to his story.  
  
"I knew it," Hermione said, breathing excitedly as Harry finished the account, "Malfoy is capable of wandless magic."  
  
Evidently, the stumped look on both Ron and Harry's faces was not the effect Hermione had hoped to achieve.  
  
"Wandless magic," Hermione repeated impatiently, "only very powerful wizards or witches can master this skill."  
  
"Please 'Mione, you flatter the prat, that spineless git can't be that powerful." Ron snorted derisively, waving his hand as though that settled the matter. Harry voiced his agreement, after all, given the situation, he wasn't about to pay attention to what Malfoy was doing when his life was at stake.  
  
Hermione pursed her lips. Harry was right, the chances of Malfoy capable wandless magic were practically nonexistent, but what about the scene in the library? Surely there must be an explanation for all the unnatural tension.  
  
Hermione's gaze flickered from Harry; whose chin rested on interlocked fingers, to Ron, his face portrayed a troubled expression as he bit his lower lip.  
  
"A Knut for your thoughts Ron." Harry said as he noticed his mate in distress.  
  
"It's nice to know that my thoughts are only worth a Knut Harry," Ron scowled teasingly as he sat up in his chair, "I was just wondering, since Malfoy is a Healer as well, why didn't he heal himself when the Tiggorn attacked him?"  
  
"Ron, don't you ever read?"  
  
"No Hermione, but since you do, why don't you enlighten us?"  
  
Hermione thinned her lips, one of these days she will force that boy to read, even if it will be the death of her. "According to the Law of Mediwitches and Mediwizards, Clause Two Hundred and Thirty One clearly states that all Healers are to sacrifice their health and well-being for others in danger upon initiation, in other words, Ron, they are incapable of using their powers on themselves."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Hermione sighed. Harry grinned in a bemused manner, really you think at sixth year they would have grown out of their childish behaviour.  
  
"That reminds me, Harry, are you going to thank Malfoy for saving your life?" Hermione questioned, rounding Harry up.  
  
"Are you raving mad 'Mione? Why ever should Harry thank that slimy git for saving him? Besides, are you forgetting that Harry saved him and he didn't feel the least bit grateful?" Ron argued heatedly.  
  
"I refuse to see Harry lower himself to Malfoy's level. If that means Harry has to thank that prick then Harry ought to."  
  
"And I s'pose that we should be thanking him for all the trouble he got us into for the last six years as well?"  
  
"Ronald Weasley, you're the most childish, insufferable prat I've had the misfortune of meeting."  
  
"Oh really? Then you're the most naïve and socially-handicapped person in the world."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, you couldn't possibly have met the entire world."  
  
Harry sighed, the way his two friends behaved around each other you did think they were married. He watched the two of them continue their argument, their homework lay forgotten on the table. Sooner or later, he was going to have to step in to cool them down, followed by playing peacemaker during their dinner, but for now, he was determined to complete his homework.  
  
Reaching for his bag to retrieve his homework, he realised that there was something in his clenched fist. He unfurled his fingers, to reveal the squashed Centaur's Weed that lay in his palm, forgotten in the confusion.  
  
Absentmindedly, Harry reached to touch his ankle. The numbness had disappeared quite some time ago. Harry had to admit that Malfoy was a skilled Healer, he had hardly felt any pain while being healed and there was no trace of his injury, not even a slight redness, of course Harry rather eat a bucket of Stinksap before he told Malfoy that.  
  
Would he thank Malfoy the next time they meet? Harry doubt it; he was sure within the proximity of two minutes of thanking Malfoy, a fight would occur which would only make him regret thanking the bastard.  
  
Yes, he and Malfoy were enemies; it would take more than fate to change their relationship otherwise.  
  
--  
  
It was just over dinner time when Draco, Pansy and Blaise decided that they were hungry enough to make the trip down to the kitchens; hopefully, they could avoid the school population that exited the Great Hall after meals.  
  
As they passed the Great Hall, they slunk against the walls, trying not to draw attention to themselves. Their plan almost succeeded, as they were reaching the corridor that led to the kitchen, when the doors of the Great Hall opened and the entire student population came flooding out. At first, nobody noticed them, and then from the crowd, a voice called out.  
  
"Malfoy, what's this we hear about you saving Potter?"  
  
That certainly got the attention of everyone. Draco's eyes flashed dangerously as he scanned the silent crowd. When he found the sneaky bastard who said that, he'll wish he was never born. Remembering his father's words, he placed his trademark smirk on his face as he tilted his face elegantly, assuming an arrogant posture.  
  
"Well, I knew all along that Scarface's acts of heroism were nothing but acts. It was only a matter of time before he came crawling to me for help." Draco drawled lazily, following his father's plan carefully.  
  
"Is that so Malfoy? The last time I checked, it looked like you were offering me your help."  
  
Draco's eyes flickered over the crowd to the source of the quiet voice, his eyes falling on none other than Scarface and his two lackeys.  
  
"I don't think you quite understand Potter," Draco said silkily, traces of malice coated his voice, "the only reason why I saved you was out of spite. The Boy who Lived needed to be saved by his own enemy, an arrogant pissant like you would never live down such humiliation."  
  
Hushed murmurs flitted through the crowd. Some of the students had sceptical looks on their faces, but most seemed to believe Draco's explanation more than Potter's. After all, evil is always possible and goodness is eternally difficult.  
  
Draco studied Potter, silently reminding himself to keep a look of contempt on his face; it was obvious Potter disliked the murmurs passing through the crowd, if you had the eye to look for it. Potter was good at masking his dislike, but Draco's trained eyes caught the slight narrowing of those green eyes and the clenching of jaws.  
  
Without another word, Potter turned and left the scene and the crowd dispersed gradually as Draco pulled a smile across his face.  
  
So far the plan was working.  
  
--  
  
Harry lay awake in bed. Sleep was threatening to take him. That irresistible, godforsaken sleep that tormented his mind with waves of exhaustion and fatigue. Harry yawned uncontrollably and blinked. He refused to succumb to the sweet, deceiving sleep.  
  
Gone were the nights with undisturbed sleep, nightmares plagued and festered his resting mind. Naps in the days he could afford, for they were short and mostly disturbed by others, but real peaceful sleep only provided Voldermort with a hellish playground full of horrifying inventions of his friends' death and the recollections of losing Sirius over and over again.  
  
Determined to keep awake, Harry shoved the blankets off, grabbed his Invisibility cloak and decided to take a walk.  
  
--  
  
Author's note: Yep, this chapter took longer than usual to come out, but things have been happening. Merry Christmas to one and all and a Happy New Year. Hoped you all liked this chapter. Not much action but be patient, the next one is really good.  
  
- comatose bum. 


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five  
  
Harry's bare feet padded on the cool stone floor of the Hogwarts's corridors. The refreshing chill of the night teased at his wild raven hair and tickled his smooth face. Shuddering involuntarily, he drew the folds of his Invisibility cloak tightly around his chiselled frame.  
  
The walk was definitely a good idea; it prevented him from falling asleep and gave him the much needed quietness to think. Something that Harry had little of these days. Although the misconception of him being deluded and mentally unstable was cleared, it was replaced with hero-worshipping and greater reverence from the student body.  
  
Naturally, these only served to show Harry how naïve people could be and how easily swayed their beliefs were. Frustrated, Harry scrunched up his face and balled his hands into fists. For days since his return to Hogwarts he had struggled to keep his face devoid of weakness and keep his emotions in check.  
  
He was sickened by the whole war, the necessity of matching himself up to Voldermort's standard, the responsibility of saving the entire wizarding world, a wizarding world whose loyalty faltered readily. What angered Harry the most was that he couldn't blame the wizarding world for being fooled, and everyone, including himself, knew he wouldn't forsake innocent lives for his own selfish reasons.  
  
Harry slumped against the wall, exhaling tiredly. Pulling his glasses off his face, he rubbed his exhausted eyes; he really shouldn't be thinking about these things, he needed to concentrate on defeating Voldermort, not moan about how unfair the whole thing was.  
  
'It would be better if I had something in my life worth fighting for.' Thought Harry, running his fingers through the soft fabric of his cloak.  
  
--  
  
"Tea, Mr Weasley?" Dumbledore asked as he peered through his spectacles.  
  
"Yes please."  
  
Dumbledore nodded busily, as he clapped his hands twice, causing a pot of tea and two cups to appear on a tray, hovering just above his desk. Slowly settling the tray on his desk, Dumbledore busied himself by making tea muggle-style, as Weasley sat on the opposite side of the table, patiently waiting for Dumbledore to finish.  
  
Weasley muttered thanks as Dumbledore pushed his cup of tea towards him, reaching out to take a sip of the freshly brewed tea. Studying the man over the rim of his teacup, Dumbledore eyes flitted over his long red hair, to the fanged tooth that hung at his ear, and the man's wild choice of clothing. Really, you'd think that a Head Boy of Hogwarts would be more conservative, but now was not the time for such debate, Dumbledore hardly received visits from Bill Weasley and such visits were of great importance to the Order.  
  
"Found something of interest, Mr Weasley?" Dumbledore inquired politely, beginning the obvious topic of conversation.  
  
"As the matter of fact, yes, Professor, it's regarding the patrol on the twenty-sixth of August at Lake Nimue conducted by the Order for Death Eater activities. Well, when the team reached the place, there was no sign of Death Eaters."  
  
Bill paused to place his teacup on the desk.  
  
"However, when Kingsley did a scan for residual magic, he found a large source of magic cast over one side of the hill over looking the lake." Bill continued placidly, lacing his fingers together on his knee.  
  
"Now, of course this could mean anything. A secret dungeon of Voldermort's perhaps, or the Loch Ness nesting ground. But the magic in the area reeked of the ancient times. Most likely someone had tried to conceal the area before, but the magic worn off and had allowed this ancient power to leak out."  
  
Upon hearing this, Dumbledore sat up in his seat.  
  
"Bill, I hope you understand what you're saying, after all, we all know what this could jolly well mean, and we don't want to make false allegations about this." Dumbledore said gravely, studying the serious form of Bill.  
  
"I understand what you mean, Professor, I too had my suspicions in the beginning, but when I broke through the wards this afternoon, I knew I had to tell you as soon as possible." Bill replied earnestly.  
  
"You have to see it for yourself Professor. It's unbelievable and incredible, but I believe we've found the enchanted cave that imprisoned Merlin to his final resting place."  
  
At this, Dumbledore quickly got up and crossed the table towards Bill, "Are you absolutely, positively sure?"  
  
Bill nodded, "Definitely, the place is overflowing with magic. But rest assured, no one knows about this except a few trusted members of the Order."  
  
Dumbledore nodded, before settling back into his seat, nobody could find out about this, least of all Voldermort. Who knows what he would do with this knowledge. Who knows what this cave that imprisoned Merlin contained? Magic more complex than he had ever seen probably. Magic that was more powerful than his. Dumbledore was interrupted out of his thoughts by a polite clearing of throat by Bill.  
  
"Professor, I think you should come down to the cave with me. There is this. inscription, left behind by Merlin, that I think can help us defeat Voldermort."  
  
--  
  
It was no surprise to Harry, when he got lost. It really wasn't his fault that the staircase he was on decided to move. So Harry now found himself in a corridor that he had never seen before. Unlike most corridors in Hogwarts, this one wasn't lit by several equally distanced torches, and the walls were lined with alternating mirrors and windows. The light of the waning full moon filtered through the cool glass of the windows and reflected artfully off the smooth surfaces of the mirrors.  
  
Harry was intrigued by the corridor, never had he seen anything so dark, cold and beautiful at the same time. The stone walls had fine ethereal designs carved into them with immaculately romantic brushstrokes. Harry sighed wistfully as his fingers traced the designs, his breath misted on the plate of the mirror.  
  
Then, as if on cue, Harry's ears caught the faint sound of metal clashing against metal. Harry shook that inane idea out of his head, why on earth would he hear that sound at that time of the night and in the middle of a deserted corridor? And what could possibly be causing the noise? Harry was sure the armours were banned from moving about in the night by Filch, they had caused far too much noise clanking around.  
  
Again, the soft ring of metal, this time it seemed closer, and almost immediately, it was gone again.  
  
Then again it was back, just like before, except a lot nearer, the sounds indefinitely distinct. Harry strained to hear the source of the clashes and jumped back when he realised the sounds were coming from the mirrors.  
  
Tentatively, he approached the mirror, there was no doubt about it, the clashing of metal was coming from somewhere behind the mirror. 'Impossible,' thought Harry, 'unless there is some sort of room behind the mirror.'  
  
Carefully, he studied to mirror, running his long fingers over the intricate motifs on the frame of the mirror, when his eyes caught a latch cleverly hidden to blend in with the rest of the pattern. Lifting the latch, he swung the mirror open slowly, in apprehension of what stood behind the mirror.  
  
--  
  
And stared into a hallway, the ghostly light of the moon shining through the windows, the walls lined with numerous, different forms of ancient weaponry, many looked as though they had been through many battles yet they glittered in the darkness with lustrous splendour.  
  
The clash of metal echoed loudly through the hallway, Harry whipped around and saw two figures in the dim light sparring with each other, their swords flashing in the eerie glow of the night. Harry stared mesmerized, it was like they were dancing, like lovers, drawn apart momentarily, only to clash together with such ferocity and passion.  
  
It was then, Harry realised that one of the figures, was just an empty suit of armour, enchanted to spar with the other. The beautiful dance of the blades, the figure clad in dark robes that swirled around him as he artfully sidestepped the armour's uncontrolled attack into the cool light of the moon. A glimmer of gold in the darkness.  
  
"Malfoy?"  
  
Distracted, the Slytherin broke his concentration from the fight, his face in a state of shock at the discovery of Harry's presence, before he collapsed as the armour thrust its sword through his chest.  
  
--  
  
'What is he doing here? He's not suppose to know of this place, no one does, not even Blaise.' Draco thought furiously, forgetting his duel momentarily.  
  
Unknown to Draco, the armour was drawing closer, and in a dark flash its sword went out, and Draco's head went back, and he saw the moon and the helmet of the armour upside down.  
  
He was falling face first.  
  
And he went down and down past the windows of the corridor, until the stony floor rose up to catch him, and every bone of his body seemed to break within its thin case of skin. In a flood, his blood pooled around him and soaked his robes.  
  
Cursing himself for being easily distracted, Draco's face contorted as the pain wrecked through his body. Panic seized him as he heard the suit of armour approaching to finish him off, he needed to have eye contact with the suit of armour to break the spell. Struggling, he tried to turn over, but the slightest movement caused unbearable pain to tear at his wound.  
  
In despair, his eye caught his own reflection in the mirror, his hair was out of place, the white shirt he wore underneath his robes was drenched crimson and the suit of armour was just above him, sword poised, ready to deliver the final blow.  
  
Desperately, he fumbled for his wand in the folds of his robes, fingers shaking in fear. Where was his strength when he needed it? Why couldn't he will himself to turn over and blast that suit of armour to pieces with a mere glance?  
  
Finally! His wand! Now blast that overgrown metal to fragments! Do it, now! Draco wildly flung his wand behind him, but the spell came from another source.  
  
"Diffindo!"  
  
Potter. Again.  
  
The force of the spell caused the wind to graze the back of his neck.  
  
Defeated, Draco allowed his wand to clatter on the floor and roll towards the wall, pressing his forehead against the cool floor of the corridor.  
  
Footsteps approaching. Draco looked up to see the hem of Potter's pants in front of him.  
  
Harry frowned and thinned his lips.  
  
"What exactly were you doing Malfoy?"  
  
"What do you think I was doing Potter? Waltzing?" Draco retorted from the floor, slamming his fist against the floor as he struggled in vain to sit up.  
  
Sighing exasperatedly, Harry bent down.  
  
"What do you think you're doing? I don't need -"  
  
Draco started, only to fall silently as he watched Harry turned him over and tend to the gaping hole in his chest.  
  
The magic flooded his senses. Calming, soothing, like a softly sung lullaby effect. His eyelids drooped heavily, his breathing relaxed. And Potter was there, there was this glow emanating from him, his face was shining and perfect, the countenance of a god it seemed, seductive yet ethereal, with jet black hair and clear green eyes.  
  
Potter moistened his lips, his mouth forming words.  
  
"Malfoy," he said. It was unobtrusive. It was caressing.  
  
"Malfoy."  
  
Draco shook his head and blinked as though clearing his head and looked up to see Potter staring at him oddly.  
  
Jerking violently, Draco pulled apart from Harry, slamming him against the nearest wall as realisation kicked in.  
  
"What did you do?" Draco spat, his face within close proximity of Harry's, the energy of their magic seared and tingled across their skin.  
  
His eyes flashed, his lips quivered as he drew in each breath. Fury coursed through him like poison, his eyes raked over Harry's face, searching. Trembling slightly, his fist shook as he gripped Harry's cloak.  
  
Fear was gnawing at his insides.  
  
Why did Potter make him feel this way?  
  
"Can't you feel this? The tension? What have you done to me?" Draco seethed, a perfect incarnation of malice.  
  
Harry's face was the epitome of confusion. It seemed the green eyes faltered. But then his face so subtly transformed itself to rage, that Draco drew back.  
  
"Nothing but saved your ungrateful ass from death!" Harry shouted with anger that matched Draco's own.  
  
Draco stared at Harry incredulously, could anyone be so thick? Could he not feel the uncontrolled energy?  
  
But in the same miraculous way, the hatred melted and Harry stared at Draco regrettably as the boy sank to the floor, dazed.  
  
"Look Malfoy, we both had a rough night, why don't we just go back to our beds and call it quits?" Harry suggested exhaustedly.  
  
Draco looked up at the boy standing in the unlit corridor in his striped pyjamas and laughed bitterly.  
  
"You really don't know a thing, do you Potter?"  
  
--  
  
Harry awoke bleary-eyed the next morning to Ron's frantic yells. Something about being late for Potions.  
  
Late. For. Potions.  
  
'SHIT.' Thought Harry as he leapt out of bed and scrambled to change into his robes. Grabbing his books, Harry hurtled down the stairs, almost flattening a pair of second years, tearing after Ron.  
  
Bursting into the dungeons, Harry looked up to see the entire class at their seats, Snape in the midst of explaining that day's experiment.  
  
"Late again Weasley. That would be fifteen points from Gryffindor, now get to your seat." Snape said without looking up from his work.  
  
"And you too Potter?" Snape continued, fixing his eyes on Harry's tousled hair, "Five points from Gryffindor because I don't like extravagant enters, ten because you're late and another fifteen because this isn't your first time."  
  
Harry stifled a retort, best not get Snape angry so early in the morning; god knows what he might do. Silently, Ron and Harry shuffled to their seats, exchanging looks of empathy. Hermione gave them a dark glare, apparently the lost of points affected her more than the both of them.  
  
"Now, today we shall be doing individual work, so you can forget about gossiping with Miss Brown, Miss Patil." Snape started, as the Slytherins snickered.  
  
Bored already, Harry allowed his eyes to roam the classroom, falling on a certain blond haired Slytherin. Harry glared at the boy, how did that scum manage to get himself looking so polished and on time when he had just about the same amount of sleep Harry had?  
  
"Mr Potter, have you heard anything that I've said over the past one minute?" Snape asked icily, "If not, you may kindly move yourself to the front."  
  
Angry that he allowed himself to be caught by Snape so easily, Harry picked up his books and dragged his cauldron to the front bench, viciously dumping them on the table and began with his experiment.  
  
After an hour or so, most of the class's potions began to show signs of being the expected end result. Hermione's was a clear semi-liquid gel like substance with a faint pink mist hovering over the surface. Malfoy's was almost identical, save for the mist being a slightly darker shade than Hermione's.  
  
But Harry's unlike the rest of the class was just utterly and obviously wrong. Instead of having a clear gel like substance, his was a dark red liquid that kept spewing out a deep purple gas. Of course his was not the only one with such trouble, Ron was having trouble with the potion too but at least his was a clear substance.  
  
It was no surprise when Snape descended upon Harry like a hawk going in for the kill.  
  
"Mr Potter, the Love Potion, though forbidden, is one of the easiest potions to make; did you read up on it before you attended this lesson?" Snape asked silkily, glancing down at Harry's books.  
  
"Oh I see, you can't differentiate work from play." Snape said, holding up Harry's books. Which to Harry's horror were not his Potions books but his precious collection of books on Quidditch.  
  
"I shall be confiscating these Potter; clearly you don't take Potions classes seriously." A malignant smile spread over Snape's face.  
  
Harry gaped outraged by Snape's atrocity. It was obvious that he had grabbed the wrong books in his haste, was Snape not only stupid but blind?  
  
It probably would have been better if Harry didn't say the last bit out loud.  
  
Shaking in fury, his face contorted in anger, Snape wiped his wand over Harry's failure of a potion.  
  
"Potter, you're the most abysmally idiotic student I've ever had the misfortune of teaching. Incapable of doing such a simple potion, utter disrespect for a professor. You've helped Gryffindor lose fifty points this lesson and earned yourself a week's worth of detention."  
  
Seething and trembling in rage, Harry gripped the table as Snape announced his final punishment.  
  
"-And since its obvious you can't brew a potion to save your insignificant life Potter, you shall carry on your remedial Potions from last year, every Thursday evenings at my office. Class dismissed."  
  
What?  
  
Remedial potions?  
  
But he didn't have remedial potions last year. It was a cover for his occlumency training.  
  
Wait a second,  
  
Did Snape mean what he thinks Snape means?  
  
Harry glanced uncertainly at Snape, whose face was still in cold fury.  
  
And then a curt nod, as though to dismiss the class.  
  
Harry's jaw dropped open as the class filed out of the dungeons.  
  
--  
  
Author's notes: Man, sorry this chapter is so late.. Been quite busy adjusting to my new school and seeing all my friends off to Australia one by one.. But still, at least it's out right? So enjoy. 


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six:  
  
"Occlumency?! Harry, I do believe you've finely lost it. I mean, we're talking about the man who made your life in Hogwarts miserable for the past six years!! And you're telling me that you asked him for extra torture sessions?!" Ron sputtered as they entered the Great Hall.  
  
"Ron, trust me, I'm going to need these lessons sooner or later, and what better time to learn it now?" Harry said exasperatedly, settling down in a space between Dean Thomas and a second year.  
  
"But, but—"  
  
"Now? Now isn't that great a time Harry, you'll be sitting for your NEWTS next year and you ought to be preparing for it now." Hermione cut in, emphasising her point by taking out a very large and ancient looking book.  
  
"And what if Voldermort decides to attack Hogwarts this year through my mind? There wouldn't be a next year for many of us."  
  
That cut Hermione short. Ron eyed his friends warily, the awkward silence ensued. Harry flushed and closed his eyes; he didn't mean to lash out like that.  
  
"Look, Hermione, I didn't –"  
  
"I know Harry, I really appreciate it, but we want you to know that you still have your future ahead of you. Don't screw it up over a madman."  
  
"Yeah mate, give him a couple of decades and he might just die of age."  
  
Harry grinned; trust Ron to inject humour into every situation.  
  
"But seriously, Snape?"  
  
"Ron, I –"  
  
Ron waved his hand to cut Harry short. Giving him a reassuring grin and a wink, Ron turned his attention to the teachers' table.  
  
"Hey, have you noticed Dumbledore's missing?"  
  
--  
  
His footstep echoed throughout the cave, as Dumbledore stepped into a cave carved out of black glittery marble. There was the sound of running water and the stagnant air stirred from the uncovering of the cave. Dumbledore breathed in deeply, the waves of residual magic was overwhelming, he quivered with excitement, yes, this had to be it, there was no reason why this cave couldn't be the final resting place of Merlin, the sheer energy from the residual magic was positively electrifying.  
  
Dumbledore stopped in mid-tracks and turned at the sound of Bill entering the cave behind him. Waiting patiently for Bill to prepare for the tour of the cave, Dumbledore silently cast a Cloaking Charm over the area, if anything; this was the last thing that he wanted Voldermort to discover.  
  
"Lumos. Right Professor, shall we proceed?" Bill gestured to the further depths of the deep cave.  
  
"By all means, Mr Weasley, I'm right behind you."  
  
--  
  
It was eight o'clock on a Thursday night and that Potter boy was late.  
  
If it was anything that irked Severus Snape, it was lateness. That Potter will pay. Striding across the room, Snape blew out several candles and, with a wave of the hand; he closed the heavy drapes and caused the candle lights to flicker green instead of yellow. Strategically placing his jars of preserved animals in the dimmed light, Snape managed to create a sinister image worthy of a Deatheater. "Let's give Potter something to be jumpy about." Snape thought with a smirk.  
  
"ARGH! Where is that confounded Potter?"  
  
The door slammed open, "Sorry I'm late Professor! Traffic was a killer!" Potter stumbled in, rushing his apology. Snape curled his lip in disgust, that boy was lying through his teeth, at eight o'clock, most of Hogwarts would have been at the Great Hall eating their dinner, did Potter think that he, Severus Snape, the wizarding world's greatest Potions Master was born yesterday? Clearly the boy needed punishment.  
  
"Prepare yourself Potter; I trust you have been clearing your mind of all thoughts before you go to bed each night." Snape said, moving to the middle of the cleared space. Potter nodded determinedly, rolling up his sleeves in preparation for the mental assault.  
  
"Legilimens."  
  
Harry wasn't even aware that Snape had cast the spell until his mind was abruptly flooded with memory after memory; it was like watching a tidal wave rise up over him, only to crash down violently and drown him in the stormy abyss of images.  
  
Sitting on the grass, unable to move his broken leg, and thinking how it was over, and he was going to die at the hand of a troll, only to be saved by Malfoy ... His latest stay with the Dursleys, receiving his results of the OWLs, ripping open the envelope dead at night ... Waiting for his sixteenth birthday present from Sirius, only to remember that he was gone ... It was last year, they were at the Ministry of Magic, the Order had came to rescue them and Sirius was there, fighting, mocking Bellatrix, and then falling through the veil, falling in that graceful, surrealistic manner ...  
  
He opened his eyes and saw the high ceiling of the Potions classroom, he was sprawled on his back, sweating profusely, and his clothes were sticking onto him. Painfully, Harry sat up, massaging the back of his head, squinting at Snape as he wore his glasses.  
  
"Professor, you didn't have to remove the Legilimens charm just because of Sirius." Harry said quietly.  
  
Snape gave Harry a sidelong look.  
  
"I didn't Potter. You threw off the Legilimens charm on your own, and it seems to me that you have been practicing. You are capable of controlling the charm by throwing it off without repelling it back to the person who cast it. Unlike last year when you blundered your way through and managed to cast it on me out of sheer dumb luck."  
  
Harry stared at Snape incredulously; he actually managed to throw off the spell. He didn't even realise that he did it, all those nights of practice had really paid off, it was a wonder why he couldn't do it last year.  
  
"Stop gloating in that corner Potter and get ready, we're going to practice until you can throw off the charm entirely, from the moment I say 'Legilimens', just now you let me delve too deep, as it is, a single memory is good enough for your enemy to finish you off." Snape snapped at the boy, motioning for him to move into the middle of the room.  
  
Harry nodded, his face set with concentration, it was going to be a long night but for what it's worth, one long night was nothing to the many nights of dreamless sleep to come.  
  
--  
  
Harry awoke early in the morning; he couldn't sleep properly and had given up all hope in getting actual rest. No, his sleep was no longer plagued by nightmares and visions sent by Voldermort, it had been one week since he started Occlumency and his daily practice had paid off; Harry's sleep had been plagued by, for the first in a very long time, nerves. The morning greeted Harry with the chill that came with the change of seasons, the first signs of autumn. Looking out of the window, a light fog had covered Hogwarts grounds, yes; this morning was just like every other morning, except today, there was Quidditch. Against the Slytherins. Slipping on his Quidditch robes and grabbing his Firebolt, Harry made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast, making no attempt to tame his hair.  
  
Upon entering the Great Hall, Harry found, to his great surprise, that the Hall was empty, save for one person other then himself. Draco Malfoy was sitting at the Slytherin table, dressed in his green Quidditch robes, with his Nimbus displayed on the table, helping himself to a large amount of pancakes.  
  
As Harry crossed the room, he felt Malfoy's eyes follow him. Deliberately, Harry sat down on the Gryffindor table, two tables away from the Slytherin's, directly facing Malfoy, defiantly placing his Firebolt on the table, followed by piling his plate with pancakes.  
  
"I suppose living with muggles has taught you dining manners very much like that of a dog right Potter." Draco said disdainfully from the Slytherin table, staring pointedly at Harry.  
  
Harry stared at Malfoy with a raised eyebrow, his food halfway to his mouth.  
  
"Do you have a problem with my appetite Malfoy?"  
  
"Oh not at all Potter, do gorge yourself until your flashy Firebolt is unable to support your weight."  
  
"You're one to talk, when the number of pancakes on your plate is double that on mine."  
  
"Ah, but a boy of my age has a growing appetite, one needs to eat."  
  
"That's strange; we're of the same age but surprisingly the more I look at your face, the more my appetite starts to shrink." Harry retorted sweetly, narrowing his eyes.  
  
"I could say the same thing about your love life and how you always seen with that nonexistent girlfriend of yours."  
  
"At least I have Moaning Mrytle; you would have to settle for eternal celibacy for the rest of your life."  
  
"Everyone knows that you are the Gryffinwhore," Draco snorted, "There's no need for advertising."  
  
"Slytherin slut."  
  
"Mudblood."  
  
"Look," Harry said, putting down his fork, "We obviously started off on the wrong foot, and since you owe me one for saving your life from that old piece of metal, why not agree on a truce?"  
  
"Are you out of your mind Potter? A truce? Before a Quidditch match? I'm sure the Gryffindorks wouldn't appreciate that." Malfoy said; his cheeks bulging from the amount of pancakes stuffed in his mouth.  
  
"We don't have to bring the truce onto the Quidditch field, just off the field," Harry said, waving his fork in the air, as his food rolled in his mouth, "And you don't have to be friendly, just civil would do." He added hastily.  
  
Draco stared at him suspiciously, his grey eyes boring into Harry's head, "Fine."  
  
"Right, so let me introduce myself, I'm Harry Potter."  
  
Draco snorted into his orange juice; Potter was ridiculous in trying to engage him in such pointless banter, "Draco Malfoy."  
  
The two fell silent, Harry messed with the food on his plate, here was his chance to ask Malfoy questions like what had he been doing in the corridor duelling and how did he become a Healer, or rather why, but how was he going to get the answer?  
  
"Draco, let's play a game, I'll ask you a question and you give me a truthful answer, and in return you can ask me a question and I'll give you an answer." Harry suggested looking up from his plate.  
  
Draco wiped his mouth slowly, contemplating Potter's suggestion, "For one, since when were we on first name basis? I don't recall giving you the right to call me Draco. Second, we are obviously on different sides of the war so why should I answer questions that might make me give away invaluable information, and third, what makes you think I even want to ask you anything?"  
  
Harry smiled; he had gotten Malfoy's attention. "Well, firstly, you introduce yourself as Draco Malfoy, and correct me if I'm wrong but Draco is your name right? Second, I'm not too sure about the sides, but if the question requires one of us to betray our side then we have the right not to disclose such information, and third I know that you have some burning questions to ask me, especially about what is my relationship with Sirius Black."  
  
Draco paused, Potter did have a point, "Okay, shoot Pot-Harry, what do you want to ask me?"  
  
Harry grinned, "What's your reason for duelling late at night with a suit of armour?"  
  
"I have to practice, only then would my duelling skills be flawless and useful for battles." Draco said nonchalantly, helping himself to the fruit basket.  
  
"Battles? What makes you think you're going to be part of a battle anytime soon?" Harry blurted.  
  
"Watch it Pot-Harry, you are only allowed one question at the time." Draco grinned maliciously, having beaten Harry at his own game. Harry closed his mouth audibly, waiting patiently for Draco's question.  
  
"Tell me Harry," Draco said as he inspected the apples, "What is your relationship with Sirius Black?"  
  
"He's my godfather."  
  
"That's it?" Draco asked, incredulously, forgetting his search for his apple.  
  
"Yep." Harry replied, those sausages looked quite appealing.  
  
"So are you living with him now? Wait, you are living with an ex-convict? How can you have an ex-convict for a godfather? You're a Gryffindork!" Draco rattled off, taking a bite into his apple.  
  
"Don't push it Draco, remember, one question only." Harry said with a hint of a smile, reverting his attention to the plate of sausages.  
  
"So ..." Harry started, chewing on his food thoughtfully, "Care to share why Pansy has to act like a simpering girlfriend around you when she's obviously neither?"  
  
"What?" Draco shouted from the Slytherin table, accidentally enchanting some muffins to grow legs and run off, "How did you come to know of this Potter?"  
  
"Oh please, Hermione had pointed it out long ago. Really, although Pansy acts like a hysterical, spineless girl who seems smitten by your charm, at dinners, her "love" for you can't hold a candle to her love for the food and besides, it's obvious she and Blaise are together, so spit, why are you both acting as though you're a couple?"  
  
"I'll have you know that image is of great importance to the noble Malfoy family, therefore it's only natural that my parents would engage me to Pansy, who is the finest female specimen of the pureblood wizarding society."  
  
Harry choked on his food in laughter, he was glad that he was sitting on the other end of the Great Hall, it would take Malfoy forever just to reach the Gryffindor table just to strangle him. 'Or he could hex me from where he's sitting.' Harry thought.  
  
"Shut your face Potter, do you think I want to do this? My parents would gladly let me choose who I want to be with, but it's not what the wizarding world would expect of a Malfoy. Unlike you, I do not have the luxury of being selfish and forfeiting the Malfoy reputation just for my own personal reason." Draco snapped, irked by Potter's lack of seriousness for the situation.  
  
Harry swallowed his food painstakingly, "It's Harry."  
  
"What is?" Draco asked, a confused expression etched on his face.  
  
"My name is Harry, not Potter."  
  
Draco rolled his eyes as he took a gulp of orange juice, "So Harry," He said, wiping his mouth, "Pray tell, what happened last year at the Ministry of Magic? All we hear is that the Dark Lord has returned, now tell me how's that possible?"  
  
Harry lowered his fork, "Tell me, what question do you want me to answer? Voldermort had returned two years ago. How he did it, I can tell you. What happened at the Ministry of Magic is a separate issue altogether."  
  
Draco looked thoughtful for a while. "Tell me, how did he return?"  
  
Resuming to his meal, Harry related the incidents that occurred after he and Cedric touched the portkey. How Wormtail had killed Cedric with the Killing Curse, how he was bound to Tom Riddle's tombstone, and his blood used to revive Voldermort, and how he was forced to duel for his life. Harry paused; did he want to tell Draco how he escaped? But before he could speak, Draco interrupted.  
  
"Wait, are you telling me that the Dark Lord used your blood to resume his original form and he forced you to duel with him?" Draco whistled, "Not many of adults can even survive the torture and you duelled with him and you're still sitting here in one piece? Don't you have any scars?"  
  
"Of course I do," Harry scoffed, pulling up the right sleeve of his robe, "If you come over, you can see the scar Pettigrew gave me in exchange for my blood."  
  
"I'm not moving from my seat just to see some scar Pott- Harry." Draco said obstinately.  
  
Harry shrugged, turning his attention back to his food. Wait, doesn't that mean that Draco knew nothing of Voldermort's return? But surely his father must have—Harry looked up at the boy who was helping himself to a brownie. Should he ask? But Draco wouldn't tell, unless...  
  
Staring at the boy, Harry muttered under his breath, "Legilimens."  
  
Nothing. No memories came flooding at him. Strange, even if Draco had no recollection of the return of Voldermort, he must have some sort of memory, even childhood ones. Maybe the charm didn't work. Yes, that must be it. Harry just wasn't good at Occlumency yet.  
  
"Harry, tell me, what made you decide to become a Healer?"  
  
"Brains, Draco. Clearly it isn't the characteristic of a Malfoy to have one." Harry said lightly, resuming his attack on the sausages, "Well, it's obvious why, because of who I am. With Voldermort back, people are bound to get hurt because of me, and I'm sick of having to see people around me dying in attempt to save me. It's just my way of preventing it from happening again. Three times of such incidents are enough to plague me for the rest of my life. I'm not going to let anything like that happen, ever again."  
  
"And what about sons of Deatheaters? Would you save them too?"  
  
"It seems Draco that I already have. On two separate occasions I believe." Harry said, smiling, the sun filtering into the Great Hall and catching his raven hair in the light.  
  
Draco stared at the raven-haired seeker. Here was someone who had experienced the absolute worst in life, it was incredible that anyone, what more a seventeen year-old, was subjected to such cruel ordeals, yet had the strength to wake up everyday to live. For the first time in his life, Draco saw Harry with respect. He knew the torture Harry had gone through; Father had given a brief description of it. But he never expected it to be so terrible, to be so much worse than what he had been through. And to have the willpower to carry on living.  
  
Draco opened his mouth to speak, when the doors of the Great Hall opened, and the rest of the school started pouring in, not caring about the oddness of the scene. Draco shut his mouth as the Slytherins started filling up the once empty table.  
  
"Draco, what are you doing up so early? I woke up and you were gone. How could you leave me?" Pansy said shrilly, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.  
  
Drawing himself up, Draco held Pansy firmly, before placing a firm, long kiss on her lips. Slowly pulling away, Pansy narrowed her eyes. She was going to give Draco a piece of her mind of doing such things without telling her in advance.  
  
Smirking, Draco looked over to the Gryffindor table; Harry was sitting with the Weasel and the Mudblood, still happily eating his breakfast. That pig.  
  
And then, while his two sidekicks were in heated discussion, Harry turned to look in his direction, shaking his head with a bemused smile, he rolled his eyes before joining in the discussion. And the moment passed.  
  
'What was that?' Draco thought. For a moment, it seemed as though time had froze, and for that split second, he swore he actually felt Harry's uncontrolled raw magic, radiating off him, and it shook something in him. There was something about Harry's magic that he couldn't place a finger on, but it was what made Harry's magic so indescribably Harry.  
  
"Hey Malfoy!"  
  
Turning around, Draco realised that it was Harry, who was standing at the Gryffindor table; all eyes reverted on the two of them.  
  
"What do you want Scarface? I have little reason to talk to imbeciles like you."  
  
Harry shrugged, "Just noticed you were leaving. I know you're nervous about the match later, but I doubt any last minute practice would help. After all, you'd think by now you were used to losing to me."  
  
Why that insufferable prick.  
  
"I'll see you at the Quidditch field Potter, unless you're too afraid to turn up." Draco said forbiddingly.  
  
"Oh yes, going against the Slytherin seeker has always been my worst nightmare." Harry said his face scornful but his eyes were twinkling in humour.  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes, before giving a curt nod and leaving the Great Hall.  
  
Author's notes: Haha okay, I know this chapter is rather late. Ok very late. But still at /em it's out. Does anyone know how to get italics to show up on fanfic when using Microsoft word? Cos the italics on my documents don't turn up on fanfic. Hmmm. Yep that's bout it... don't worry, I won't abandon this fic. I hope. That's about it. For now, I'm comatose bum and this has been a great chapter. Good night everybody, Comatose Bum, out! 


End file.
